


One day.

by Follevolo



Series: Tumblr prompts [14]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Season 3 gallavich, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-06-02
Packaged: 2018-02-03 04:28:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1731122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Follevolo/pseuds/Follevolo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt : Ian finds a hidden tattoo on Mickey's body during or after sex, with a strong meaning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One day.

Surprisingly enough, they had managed to bang on a bed, for once. The same bed in which they fucked the first time, Ian thought with a lame smile while taking a puff of the joint Mickey had passed him silently. They were lying next to each other in the small bed, still naked, their breaths still a little frantic, their chests moving up and down in sync, like they were one.

Ian was suddenly incredibly aware of each and every inch of his skin touching Mickey’s body. His shoulder was pressed against his, his arm brushing lightly his, their hands almost touching. Ian knew it wasn’t going to last. He knew Mickey would kick him out as soon as he gained back strength and lucidity. He knew they didn’t do the cuddling or the talking, or the kissing or the sleeping or the anything which wasn’t fucking – not yet.

He sighed and turned to face the other boy, who had his eyes shut and an almost peaceful grin on his face. Ian felt his face turn red and his ears burn, because goddammit if Mickey wasn’t the most handsome guy he had ever seen. Now more than ever, with his messy aftersex hair and smoke floating out of his lips, and his pale soft skin covered by a gentle layer of sweat that was driving Ian crazy – he wanted to reach out a hand and brush his fingertips on his forehead, his jaw, his neck, his chest and stomach and narrow hips…

His eyes indulged generously on how much of Mickey’s body they could possibly reach without moving – he didn’t want Mickey to realize he was being such a fag, he knew he would win a broken nose for this. But he couldn’t help it. He had missed this body for months while Mick was in juvie, and hadn’t got used to it again yet. It was glorious, raw, perfect, from his skinny legs to his black hair, longer than the last time they saw each other. Ian liked them long – he could grab them better during sex, pass his finger between them, stroke them not so gently, just in order to make Mickey more willing to accept the gesture.

One day, he would caress that body gently, like he wanted to.

He would wait for that day, and since then, he would steal this little moments to watch what he was missing – but not really missing.

Suddenly, he felt a soft snore. He smiled, his eyes shining in pure bliss: Mickey had fallen asleep. He turned unconsciously around giving his back to Ian and mumbling something between his teeth, while Ian kept looking at him in amazement. Well, that was something they definitely didn’t do, but Ian was enthusiastically ready to take the next step.

He was still smiling when he saw it, just on his hip. He couldn’t believe he never noticed it.

A little M, in a nice calligraphy. He looked at it for several moments, biting his bottom lip.

He couldn’t resist.

«What the fuck, man!» Mickey turned around as soon as he felt Ian’s fingers touching his lower back, looking at him with a grumpy sleepy expression and a raised eyebrow.

«I never noticed the tattoo» Ian explained, shuddering nonchalantly «What does M stands for?»

«It’s for Mind your own fucking business» Mickey rolled his eyes and grabbed a cigarette «What are you still doing here anyway. Waiting for round two, uh?»

Ian tried his best to smile like he didn’t care, like the question didn’t hurt him. He knew they didn’t do that shit. But he wanted it so badly. He wanted Mickey so badly, and not just use him as a fucking hole. He wanted to know him, to talk to him, to laugh at him and with him and basically to do what people do when they live and they feel and they love and they exist together with someone.

Not too much to ask. And it wasn’t a big deal anyway, he could take rejection. He was used to rejections. He could put a smile on his face and reach his clothes and go.

If he wanted to be subtle, he probably failed miserably because Mickey’s face warmed up imperceptibly for a few seconds before scoffing and raising his arms in the air in a sign of surrender.

«Okay man, okay, just don’t fucking cry» he teased him with a grin; Ian looked at him with his puppy eyes a little more, expectantly «It stands for Maria, okay? And for Mandy, too. Maria was my mum. We had this thing, when we were little, we used to call ourselves the three Mesquiteers. She used to say that’s why our names started all with M, that we were like a fucking team or something.»

His eyes were stubbornly glued to the ceiling, and bluer than Ian had ever seen them. The edges of Mickey’s lips were trembling just a little in the ghost of a smile.

Ian had never in his life felt more the urge of kissing someone like in that moment, when Mickey was thinking about his mom and he had this almost attempt of a smile, and it was the most innocent thing Ian had ever seen. It’s not like he wanted to kiss him. He needed it. His entire body was aching in the necessity of covering that mouth with his mouth.

One day, Ian told himself. One day.


End file.
